I Turn to You
by schneidahhh
Summary: CARBY angst. Abby is attacked. John is in Africa. First ER fic, but I promise it won't be terrible.
1. Chapter 1

AN: Hey guys! It's been awhile since I've written anything, so bear with me. This is my first ER fic. I love Carbys too much not to attempt one! It's slightly AU, and takes place in Season 9.

Chapter 1:

The doors to the ambulance bay opened, and Abby Lockhart walked out into the brisk Chicago evening. Standing a few feet away was Susan Lewis, a co-worker of Abby's.

"Hey," said Abby, nodding.

"Hey, you off?" Susan asked her.

"Yup. Finally," she replied. It hadn't been her best day. She had worked on a little girl who had been abused by her uncle. Her injuries had been too severe.

"That was a tough case Abby. It's not your fault," said Susan, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Susan, she was here two weeks ago. I should have picked up on…something." She reached into her purse and pulled out her cigarettes and lighter. Holding the cigarette in her lips, and using her left hand to shield the wind, she lit the cigarette and took a long drag.

"Don't be ridiculous. She was here for an earache. It's not your fault," she repeated.

"Well, it has to be someone's fault," Abby said, and started to walk out of the ambulance bay.

"Hey!" Susan called, "Are you gonna be ok? I'm off in 2 hours if you wanna wait."

Abby took another drag before answering.

"Thanks, Susan. But I'm fine. I'll see you later," she said, and continued walking out of the ambulance bay.

"You should call him Abby. I have the number," Susan said, her voice had a slight bit of desperation in it.

"No thanks." And with that, she left, passing an ambulance, leaving Susan to attend to the patient that had just arrived.

Abby was waiting on the platform for the El. She continued to smoke her cigarette as she thought.

Was she ok? She didn't think she was. Did it have to do with the patient today? Yes. Well, no. Not really.

If Carter were here, he would know just what to say, just what to do, to make her feel better. But, the reality was that Carter wasn't here. He wasn't in Chicago. He wasn't even in the country. He was in Africa, working as a doctor.

"_What about me, Carter? I need you," she said. She wasn't going to cry. But it was damn hard not to. _

"_Abby, the people over there. They need so much help that they just aren't getting. I can help them," Carter responded, "It's the right thing to do." _

_The tears were coming. She could feel them, and she didn't think there was anything she could do to prevent them from falling. _

"_So, you're really going then." It wasn't a question. It was a statement. _

"_What's going to happen to us?" She said this quieter. Almost in a whisper, as if she didn't even want to know. _

"_I don't know," Carter said, shrugging, "I thought we could beat the distance."_

"_Yeah, but Carter. Thousands and thousands of miles would be between us. We'll barely have any communication. It's not like you can call whenever you want to. Things are different there. Why aren't you getting that?" _

"_So, what? Do you want a break from me?" Carter asked, his voice getting louder. _

"_Carter stop it-" she started._

"_No. I won't stop it. You're the one saying the distance isn't going to work," he said angrily. _

"_You're the one who's leaving Carter!" _

_The tears fell._

Why they had left things like that, she didn't know. She hadn't heard from him in weeks. He called Susan every so often, to have her let everyone know he was ok. He never asked about Abby. He never said when he'd be back. If he'd be back.

A train arrived, but Abby didn't feel quite like leaving yet. She liked the fresh air. She'd catch the next one. Soon, she was alone on the platform, and went back to her thoughts.

She couldn't believe that she had pushed him away. She always thought that he'd be the one to stay.

A person walked up and sat next to Abby, waiting for the next El to arrive. She walked over to the cigarette receptacle and tossed her finished cigarette in. As she returned to the bench she continued thinking about Carter.

The idea of him never coming back was enough to make Abby's chest hurt.

Something was wrong. Her chest really did hurt. She pulled herself from her thoughts and placed a hand to her chest. Her hand was red. Blood? From where?

Someone was standing in front of her. By the size of the person, she guessed it was a man. The man who had sat down beside her maybe? She quickly sat down onto the bench.

All she felt was pain. She was having a difficult time keeping her eyes open. She was fighting a losing battle, and she had accepted that. As she laid her head to rest on the column next to the bench, she saw a face she never thought she'd see again.

She fought again to stay conscious, but it was no use. The last thing she saw before succumbing to the darkness was Paul Sobriki running away.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Things have been so crazy lately. From working 50+ hour weeks to being hit by a drunk driver, I've been pretty busy and sad to say haven't had much time to write. Let's see if we can get this story going again. Forgive me if I'm rusty!

**Chapter 2:**

Susan pulled off her gloves, disposed of them, and exited trauma 1. As she was walking toward the admit desk, she was joined by Pratt, who had his jacket in hand. The sound of a man shouting was echoing through the hall.

"I'm gonna guess that's your patient?" said Susan.

"The lovely Mr. Garcia. Kidney stones. He's waiting on pain meds. The sooner he gets them, the sooner he'll shut up," he said to her, passing over a chart.

"Going somewhere?" Susan asked him.

"I got a date," he responded, "Still waiting on a psych consult for Mrs. Mather in curtain 2. Ortho is on their way to look at my kid in 3. And I am out of here!" He handed her the stack of charts in his hands.

"Oh, come on! I'm swamped!" Susan whined.

"Sorry! I was off 20 minutes ago. And Greg Pratt never misses a date," replied Pratt, already walking away.

Pratt walked through the doors out into the cool air of the ambulance bay. He shivered slightly, and then made his way to the El platform.

* * *

><p>Susan let the mass of charts tumble onto the counter of the admin desk. She rubbed her forehead and let out a deep breath.<p>

"Everything ok Susan?" asked Kerry Weaver, who was concentrating on the computer screen in front ofher.

"Oh, hi Kerry," said Susan, "Yeah, everything's fine. Pratt just handed off all his patients to me, and I need to go give one of them pain meds."

"Fine, great," replied Kerry, Mr. Garcia let out another shout. She suddenly slammed the mouse down on the mousepad. "Who the hell is making that noise?!"

"That'd be my pain med guy in curtain 2," Susan answered, "Kidney stones."

"Hey, Malik! Get the guy in curtain 2 started on morphine, 5 mgs," ordered Kerry,

Malik shook his head and remained where he was, continuing his task of stocking shelves. Kerry grabbed hold of her crutch, and began to hobble down the hallway. She stopped briefly outside of the door and yelled, "Today!" before disappearing outside.

Susan rolled her eyes and picked up a chart. "Come on Malik," said Susan. She grabbed the shoulder of his scrub top as she walked past him to lead him to the yelling patient.

* * *

><p>Up on the platform of the El, Abby remained still, drifting in and out of consciousness. She knew County wasn't far. She could try to make it. But she knew she wouldn't get very far, if anywhere.<p>

"Hey," she heard someone say, "You ok?"

She felt this stranger grab her shoulder. Her head lifted from the column it had previously been resting on.

"HEY! SOMEONE GET SOME HELP!"

Why did he sound so scared? She wanted to tell him to relax, that she was ok. But she wasn't so sure now. She was just now realizing that she was no longer sitting up, but lying on her back on the bench.

She wasn't entirely sure how much time had passed. She was cold, that she knew. It could have been hours, it could have been minutes.

"Hang on lady, ok? We're getting help."

At least she wasn't alone now. That was nice. If she was going to die, she was glad she wouldn't have to be by herself.

* * *

><p>Pratt began making his way up the stairs to the El. As he continued to climb, he noticed a young boy running down the stairs. The boy was so focused on his destination, that he didn't even notice Pratt and ran right into him. He looked up at the tall man, who had grabbed him by the shoulder to steady him.<p>

"Hey, slow down there champ!" Pratt said, laughing slightly.

"Sorry sir. I just have to go get help," the boy said quickly.

"Help?" asked Pratt, turning more serious, "Help for what?"

"Some lady up there is hurt," replied Clyde, "There was a lot of blood. She needs help."

"Ok, calm down. What's your name?"

"Clyde."

"Ok Clyde. My name's Greg, and I'm a doctor. Can you show me where the lady is?"

Clyde took off in a quick, purposeful run, with Pratt following close behind. In no time they had reached the top of the platform. A small crowd had begun to form around a bench. As he got closer, he could see blood on the ground.

He could also see a woman lying down on the bench, eyes closed. He grabbed the back of Clyde's shirt, pulling him away from the scene.

"Alright, move aside! I'm a doctor!"

He quickly rushed over to the unconscious woman. He placed two fingers to her neck to check for a pulse. Sighing with relief, he removed his hand. It was weak, but it was there.

"Did anybody see what happened?"

He was answered only by shakes of heads and people looking on in horror. He quickly pulled out his phone and dialed County. After waiting for someone to answer, he shook his head and hung up. Then he remembered Clyde.

"Clyde, I need you to do something very important," Pratt said, seriously, "I need you to go down the street to County, find the first doctor you can, and tell them that Dr. Pratt needs a gurney at the El station, now. Can you do that?"

Unable to respond, Clyde simply nodded.

"Good. Go!" responded Pratt.

Clyde took off running, and Pratt moved closer to the injured woman to assess her injuries. He needed to find out where the source of the bleeding was. At least that way he could apply pressure and attempt to slow it.

He discovered quickly that the wound was in her chest. It appeared to be a stab wound. He took his jacket off and pressed it to her chest. Caught up in the heat of the moment, he hadn't even realized that the woman lying before him was wearing blue scrubs.

Pratt suddenly felt his stomach drop. The woman's head had been turned towards Pratt, however her blonde hair fell in front of it, leaving her face unseen. He unconsciously took a deep breath, and reached toward her face to push her hair out of the way. He was only able to whisper his next words.

"Oh god, Abby."

* * *

><p>Clyde reached the ambulance bay in record time. He saw a red headed woman sitting against the wall. She was wearing a white coat and had a stethoscope hung around her neck. He quickly ran towards her.<p>

"Help! Are you a doctor?!" he asked her, hurriedly, "I need a gurney!"

"What's wrong?" she asked, worried. She quickly stood up, and grabbed her crutch, "Are you hurt?"

"No. Not me. A lady by the El. Dr. Pratt said to send a gurney!" replied Clyde, short of breath.

"Pratt?!"

* * *

><p>"Abby? Can you hear me?" Pratt asked, trying to shake Abby awake. He received no response, Glancing around, Clyde was nowhere to be found. Time was being wasted. Without a second thought, he placed an arm under Abby'sneck, another under her knees and lifted her with ease.<p>

"Move aside, move aside!" he yelled as he made his way through the crowd, with Abby in his arms. He moved quickly and carefully down the stairs, where he was met with Susan and Malik, who were waiting with a gurney.

"What do we got?" Susan yelled up to him.

"Woman, stab wound to the chest," he yelled back as he made his way down the last few steps. He gently placed Abby down onto the gurney. He looked up to meet Susan's eyes.

"It's Abby."


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Trying to keep the updates coming! Reviews always encourage me! Share your thoughts! **

**Chapter 3:**

It was a bad dream. It just had to be. She had just talked to Abby. Now she was on a gurney, bleeding to death. What had happened? _How _had this happened? Susan shook her head. This wasn't the time to mull on the details. Right now Abby needed help.

Susan had a lump in her throat. She felt as if she couldn't move, but yet, she somehow was. She had a tight grip on one side of the gurney, Pratt and Malik on the other. They ran down the sidewalk toward the ER, alerting people to move out of their way.

They burst through the doors of the ambulance bay and were greeted by an angry looking Dr. Weaver.

"What the hell Pratt? What's going on?" she asked, clearly annoyed as he continued rolling the gurney through the waiting area, "I thought you were off."

"I am," Pratt responded, not slowing his pace.

"When then what the hell is so important?" she asked him.

He didn't have a chance to answer her before she saw who it was laying on the gurney. Kerry felt the color drain from her face. Abby lay there, looking pale and completely fragile. 'This isn't happening,' Kerry thought. After a second she composed herself and took charge.

"Get her into Trauma 2. Now."

* * *

><p>The atmosphere of Trauma 2 was filled with chaos, fear and stress. Susan, Pratt and Malik moved quickly to suit up, pulling on gloves and paper gowns.<p>

Kerry, who was already set to go, kept herself together and began to ramble off orders.

"OK. We need to get her intubated. Keep her airway clear," said Kerry, "And call the blood bank, let's get some blood down here!"

Susan quickly grabbed the tube from the tray and started to get to work.

"I can't see the chords," she said. She was visibly shaking and Kerry took notice of it.

"Susan. You can do this," she said firmly. Susan shook her head, focused and tried again. This time she saw the chords and was able to insert the tube.

"Tube's in," said Susan.

"Decreased breath sounds on the right," chimed in Pratt, listening through his stethoscope.

"Someone get the portable CT in here now!" ordered Kerry, "Probably a hemothorax."

"She's definitely gonna need a chest tube," said Pratt.

Susan nodded, "Call surgery and get them down here!"

"I need a hemoglobin and a blood gas" said Kerry, "And where the HELL is that CT?!"

"Dr. Kovac is using it over in Exam 2," replied a new nurse.

"Well, go and get it!" Susan yelled back. The nurse jumped slightly at Susan's tone and took off quickly.

"Blood's here," spoke up Malik.

"Hang 2 units and have 2 more ready to go," Susan said.

Malik quickly made his was over to the IV pole and hung the units of blood. The doors to the trauma room suddenly burst open and Elizabeth Corday entered.

"What have you got for me?" she asked lightheartedly as she pulled on some gloves. She looked up to see gloomy faces staring back at her, "What?"

No one had informed her. She walked over to the woman on the gurney.

"Oh god. What happened?" she asked, wide-eyed. No one had a chance to answer her.

"CT's here!"

They continued to work quickly and flawlessly. As chaotic as the room was, it was relatively quiet. No one was saying much of anything. This was strictly business. This was just any other patient. Not someone they knew. Not someone they worked with. Not again.

"Looks like a good amount of blood in the pleural space. At least 1000mL. We need to insert a chest tube, now," said Elizabeth determinedly, looking over the images.

Malik pushed the chest tube setup tray over towards Elizabeth and she began to work quickly and quietly. Alarms were going off all over the room. Susan was amazed that Elizabeth was able to carry on under the circumstances. With one final movement, she finished.

"Chest tube's in," she said, letting out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. The sounds of the monitors quieted and began to come more consistently steady. She was stabilizing.

* * *

><p>"What about surgery?" asked Susan.<p>

"She can wait. She's stable and it looks like the major injury was to the chest wall," said Elizabeth, "As we drain the blood that should allow her lung to reinflate. If, over the next few hours, complications arise, we'll move her to surgery."

The room was silent except for the steady beeping from the monitors.

"So now what?" asked Pratt, who began to remove his gloves and toss them on the floor.

"Now," said Kerry, "all we can do is wait. The next step is up to her."

Elizabeth placed a reassuring hand on Kerry's shoulder. "We'll let you know if anything changes."

Kerry nodded but couldn't bring herself to say anything. She was afraid if she did, she'd break down.

"I'm off in about an hour. I'll be up right after," said Susan.

"I'll go up with you," said Pratt to Elizabeth, "I'm off, so I'll stay with her for a bit."

Elizabeth nodded and began to prepare Abby for transport.

"I thought Greg Pratt never misses a date," said Susan, smiling slightly.

"Hey, I do have my priorities," he responded.

"Can't argue that," she said.

"All set?" asked Elizabeth. Pratt nodded. Each taking a side of the gurney, they unlocked it and began wheeling it towards the elevators.

* * *

><p>Trauma 2 had quickly cleared out once Abby had been wheeled out. Kerry and Susan were left alone, surrounded by discarded gloves, gowns and blood. Abby's blood.<p>

"Do you think she'll be ok?" asked Susan.

"It looks promising. No major organs were hit," Kerry began, "It'll probably be a tough recovery, but I think she'll be alright."

"Yeah. They don't come much tougher than Abby," Susan said, smiling as she thought about her friend.

Kerry looked over to the other doctor who was running her hands through her hair and letting out a deep breath.

"Why don't you go up now?" said Kerry gently.

"I still have another hour," Susan responded.

"We're pretty slow. And Luka's here," said Kerry, "Go."

"Thanks Kerry, I owe you."

* * *

><p>Susan made her way up to the ICU and found Abby's room quickly. Pratt was seated right at her bedside, gently holding her hand.<p>

"How's she doing?" asked Susan.

"Hanging in there," he responded, "You know Abby."

"Yeah, I do," Susan said, laughing, "Hey would you mind hanging out for a minute? I have to go make some calls and I just don't want her to be alone."

"Not a problem," said Pratt, "Who you calling?"

"Her mom," said Susan, "And Carter."

Pratt looked at her with his eyebrows raised.

"Really?"

"He deserves to know, Greg," said Susan.

"You think he'll come home?" He looked up at her to meet her eyes.

"I don't think. I know he will."


End file.
